The one where Robin has a temper
by Evilprincesspien
Summary: After the events in the diner, Regina hurries home. Robin follows shortly after her, perhaps equally upset but there's another feeling there for him: anger. She did, after all, murder his wife. One-shot. Warning: Violence
1. Chapter 1

**So this story just sorta ****happened. I hope you enjoy it. It's not the way I usually think of Robin, I can assure you.**

After the scene in the diner, the only logical thing for Regina to do was to run. And run she did. Never looking back until she reached her house. The next logical thing that came to mind was alcohol. Sadly, because of Roland, she'd thrown most of her hard liquor out. And wine just wasn't going to cut it. And so she decided it was an emergency, because in an emergency magic is allowed, and conjured a bottle of scotch. She thought about getting apple-cider, but she never did enjoy the ones she didn't brew herself. And so she threw herself on her pristine couch, trying not to think about what happened there not a day ago, and took a first, rather large sip straight from the bottle. She knew it was a mistake the minute she felt the liquid burning her throat. Although she wanted to spit it out, she forced it out of her throat, into her stomach and minutes later she felt the familiar warm sensation alcohol gave her. After drowning half of the bottle, slow and steady, she laid down, buried her head in the pillow and fell asleep.

Only to be awoken an hour later by her son and Emma who felt like they needed to check up on her. Regina, not entirely drunk yet, though drunk enough for Emma to notice, had told them to leave her the hell alone. And so Emma asked Henry to please go to the car and play with his gameboy or something, which he did, after Emma promised his mom would be fine.

"You're plastered."

"I resent that, miss Fine." Regina scoffed. "I know exactly what my body can take, and what it took isn't enough for even your mother to become plastered."

Emma smirked. "Are you sure about that, Regina? Have you been watching 'The Nanny' or something?"

"That vulgar show, meant only for the unintelligent to enjoy? You offend me to think I'd even watch that if it'd save my life."

She smirked again. "Whatever. Come on, let's get you inside, into a nice pair of pajamas and off to bed."

"I am not some child!" Regina exclaimed. "And you are no mother!"

"I have a son!"

"You may have a child but that doesn't make you it's parent."

Emma almost wished she hadn't insisted to go see the former queen. She guessed she'd just forgotten what an absolute pain in the ass that woman was. "You know what Regina? Just..." Emma wanted to tell her to go suck it, to jump up her ass, to do whatever because she's out, but she couldn't. This woman was drunk and needed to be taken care off. But as she was about to force Regina into her own home with her newly discovered magic, a car pulled up and out came Robin Hood. His wife and son stayed in their seats. "Oh, hey Robin..."

"Hey." He said back, he looked quite upset. "Listen, Emma, I need to talk to Regina about... us. I don't know exactly how long it'll take..."

"My guess is long. She's drunk."

"I am not drunk."

In respons Emma gave her a small push, one of which a sober person wouldn't even wobble for a bit, but send Regina falling down on her ass. "She's plastered. I don't think you can really talk to her tonight."

"Someone should take care of her. I suppose you aren't jumping with excitement to do so?" He asked Emma, who was already shaking her head. "Okay, how about this? You bring my wife and son home in your yellow monstrosity and I'll stay and take care of _her._" He said, spitting out the last word.

"Why does everybody call my car a monstrosity?"

"That's just how Regina calls it. You mean to say that's not the name of your car? I knew it sounded odd."

Emma sighed. "That's Regina for you." She shrugged and looked down at the woman who was getting more giggly by the second and was by now playing with the loose bits of yarn from her rug. "Thanks for taking care of her."

"Sure."

* * *

When he got indoors and shut it, locked it, he picked up Regina and carried her to the couch. She wasn't all that heavy. There he discovered the cause of her behavior, the half empty bottle. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him through her half-closed eyes as he held the bottle in front of her. "Did you have this in the house? Even after I specifically asked you to rid your house of all strong alcohol? For my boy?" The only response he got was a small giggle. He let go off her chin and softly pushed her down on the couch with this movement. "Damn it, Regina." He brushed his right hand through his hair and took a sip himself. "You murdered my wife, you know? I always thought it had been the sherif, mad with jealousy. But no..." He looked at her, his eyes cold. "It was you."

She pushed herself up, not quite used to this tone of voice, well, not from him that is. And then she giggled. That was it. He'd brought his hand back and then suddenly she fell back onto the couch with a big, red handprint on her left cheek. He could feel a bit of a sting in his hand but it barely registered. In all his time, never had he purposely harmed a woman. Never. And now he had. She made no sound, stayed quiet as a mouse. She'd told him about her mother's abuse, Leopold's outbursts once or twice a year, even Rumplestiltskin had harmed her physically more than once over the years. She hadn't accepted it when she took the whole evil-queen moniker. Never had a person hit her, harmed her or touched her without her consent. Until Emma came to town that was. Then hurting the queen became a popular sport, played by almost everyone. And even that had stopped half a year ago or so. And here he stood, he'd hit her. Caused a red print on her white skin, which might even bruise and yet, he felt almost nothing. No remorse for her. Not for the queen. The only thing he did feel was shame for he had hit a woman, but hadn't she deserved it? He decided she had. He roughly dragged her up, his fingers digging into her upperarm painfully and then he slapped her again, same cheek, same space and then a third time, a fourth and a fifth before he watched her go down again, without a sound.

He walked to her most favored armchair and sat down, thinking about what he ought to do next, looking at her face but not really noticing her. She had deserved it, she killed his wife for no reason at all. When he knew she was the evil queen, he knew she had murdered. Tortured. And yet that was so far away from them both, he could hardly imagine it. Her victims had no faces. But now one did. And she was loved, just as all her other victims must've been. Other mothers, fathers, brothers and even children. She hadn't spared them. She was truly evil. And now that evil was laying in front of him, incapacitated. He could kill her so easily.

She stared straight foreword, eyes open and filled with fear. Even in her drunken mind she knew this was not okay. When he stood up she covered her head with both her arms. That's when he realized she was shaking. "I'm not going to hurt you anymore." He said, but even he didn't believe himself. "I'm sorry Regina." He lifted her from the couch and carried her up the stairs, to her bedchamber where he disposed her on the bed. Her shoes she'd already taken off. He turned her on her stomach and started unzipping her dress. Stopping only when the thin material of her underwear became visible. He ignored it, difficult as it was and quickly unzipped her completely he threw the dress in the hamper, ignored the beautiful semi-clad woman on the bed and went in search for her pajamas. He dressed her, figuring that wasn't really over the line, he'd seen her naked, this was nothing. He dressed her quickly before going downstairs and found a bucket. Perhaps she would get sick in the night. When he left her bedroom he turned to take one last look at her and felt horrible to discover a bruise already forming under her eye. Her lip torn, would she get another scar? Merlin, he hoped not.

He stood next to the stairs, wondering whether to sleep on the couch, the guest-room or just to go home. He decided to call his wife first and see what she wished, although he pretty much knew already.

"Hey, it's Robin." He said to whomever answered the phone.

_"It's John. What can I do you for?"_

"Has Marian returned?"

_"She has."_

"Could you put her on please?"

_"No prob. Give me a sec."_ Robin heard some noises, Little John's voice and then Marian's. _"Robin? How did you get into this box? Was it the queen?"_

"It's a phone. I'll explain it to you another time. The reason I called is the queen though. She drank too much and I don't trust her to be alone. She already feel down a couple of times. Bumped her head." He lied. "She's got a nasty looking bruise."

After a second of silence she responded. _"You don't need my permission Robin. It's fine."_

"Thank you, my... sweetheart."

_"I Love you."_

"Love you too." And that was the end of it. He walked to the guestroom, laid down and didn't sleep a single second that night. The next morning he heard noises coming from Regina's bedroom and so he went to check up on her. "Hi." He said softly. All night had he thought of things he could say by means of an apology but he knew it wouldn't be enough. She would never forgive him. Nor should she.

"Robin?" She asked, not angry, not upset, confused if anything. "What are you doing here?"

"I took care of you." As if you could ever describe it as such. "You had too much to drink and Emma and I didn't feel comfortable leaving you alone."

She nodded. "Oh." She rubbed her eyes. "My head hurts terribly." Didn't she remember? "Did I fall or something?"

She didn't. Neither fall nor remember. "Yes." He lied to her too. "Twice that I witnessed. You should probably look into a mirror right about now."

"Is it that bad?" She asked, getting up from her bed. That's when she noticed she'd been dressed in her pajamas. "Did you dress me or was I capable enough of doing so myself?"

"I dressed you."

She nodded again as she left for her mirror, only to let out a small yet loud enough cry. "My face!" She yelled as she walked back. "Look at it! Nobody will believe I fell. They're going to think someone hit me. God, Emma and those idiots will think you hit me! You have to go. I'm sorry Robin."

He bit his tongue. "Regina, last night..." Would he tell her the truth? "I came by to talk with you about... us."

"Robin..." She sighed. "I understand. Marian isn't just your true love, she's also your wife and the mother of your child. I understand. Honestly. You should go back to her and whatever was between us... it'll just end. Like it never happened. We'll be friends, I guess. It'll be fine. If it were me and Daniel was returned to me, healthy and happy... I know who I would've chosen." She did. And that realization shocked her most of all, though she didn't show it. "It's okay. Really." She gave him a weak smile and with that he knew he should leave the room.

**So,,, this is the oneshot I thought I'd start with. First fanfiction, not my first story. Funny thing, I was always thinking of what would happen if... you know that kind of thing and sometimes I'd write them down on paper, like a caveman. Anyway, then I discovered fanfiction and wow did a world open to me! if there are any mistakes, please forgive me, english is not my native language though I do study in it.**

**I met my current boyfriend when I was about 4 or 5 years old on our holidays in France and it turned out he lived only a 20 minute drive away. Our parents were really fond of each other (my parents loved him and sort of made him their foster child when his parents were have problems in their marriage) and my sisters loved his sisters and I just said 'You're my boyfriend now.' like a week after I met him and we've sorta been together ever since, I don't know how serious you can be about a relationship until you're like 18 but anyways. he was my first everything and I really do think what we have is true love. So If I were in Robin's position and by boyfriend had died only to turn up alive again, and I turned out to be dating the guy who killed him... I'd be so angry. I know it's weird to look at it that way but my mind just went there.**

**So that's all I wanted to give you and ****I'd love to know what you think!**

**xoxox Pien**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, I'm going to start with a bit of an autor's note. First, thank you for all of your reviews! Seriously, it's amazing! But then, there was one who called me a dispicable human being because I wish someone would be the victim of domestic abuse. So let me state, to this _guest_ reviewer, that no. I do not wish domestic abuse would happen to anyone. Violence against women is horrible and I know what that can do to a person. If my boyfriend ever dared to lay a hand on me well... let's just say he'd be dumped and sued faster than it takes for the sting to go away.  
Alright, so there's that. Next there was another _guest_ reviewer who told me domestic violence is neither sexy nor romantic and that I have a whole lot of growing up to do. I don't think anyone was behind their computer going: man this is hot, better start wanking! Is it just me or did I actually put up a warning about violence? Do I need to make it more clear? Alright, you got it. I'll give you a big warning, all in capitals, underlined, everything, so you know that this is a story that might not actually be to your liking. **  
**So it's mainly thanks to the reviews that I'm continuing this story (more thanks to the good, sweet, nice, helpfull and lifethreatening ones than the bad) and I hope you'll enjoy it! **

**WARNING: CONTAINS CONVERSATIONS ABOUT DOMESTIC ABUSE AND VIOLENCE TOWARDS WOMEN**

Had he felt guilty? Yes. Horribly guilty. But he was confused too. He wanted to crawl into a little ball and die but he also sort of wanted to do it again. What was happening to him? He had to talk about it with someone, needed to hear their opinion about how he should proceed. But who do you talk to? Certainly not Marian. She would either be disgusted with him and leave him or she'd feel like he did; conflicted. He then thought about his friend Little John. But he quickly departed with that idea. Little John had taken a bit of a liking to her after he'd been freed from his slave-ape like form. That and Little John was completely against violence towards women. His poor mother passed quickly after his little sister was born and their father let out all of his anger onto the little girl leading to her untimely death at the age of eleven when he knocked her over so despicably hard she fell against the water-pump and crushed her skull. Although the man never said anything about what happened next, Robin always figured Little John was his father third and final victim. So no, John was out of the question. However, while the outlaw was deep in thought, Little John walked by, the devil he was, and noticed him.

"What's on your mind, Robin?" His friend asked.

What should he say? Which lie? "I'm thinking."

"Anything important?"

Robin sighed "To me it is."

"Then tell me, perhaps I can be of help." The large man suggested.

"This, my friend, is something I cannot share with you. You will not understand."

"Try me."

He grinned. "No, I'm sorry. I'm afraid this must remain a secret."

"As you wish." Came the immediate reply. "But you know, if you do need to talk to anyone... there these people in this world, psychologists, you can talk to them about anything. They are forced to secrecy by law. In Storybrooke there's Jiminy Cricket. He talked with me about the terrors of being a monkey. Perhaps he can help you."

"That might be an option." Robin pondered. "Yes. That might be a very good option. Thank you John, I'll be off to see the cricket." And with that the king of thieves left his friend to wonder what the incredible secret was all about.

* * *

"Mister Cricket?" Robin asked as he knocked on the door to the psychologists office. "Mister Cricket, I need to speak with you."

The sound of footsteps followed, some barking and the unlocking of a few locks until the outlaw was face to face with this so-called 'psychologist'. "Robin? Robin Hood? What is it you need?"

Robin walked right in and sat on the couch. "I did something truly atrocious."

"Well, what did you do?"

After a short silence and a long sigh he said; "I hit a woman."

"You hit Marian?" The psychologist asked, but Robin knew he already knew the truth.

"No..." Came the small voice of the man who wanted equality and happiness for all.

The cricket leaned back. "You hit Regina then? By accident?"

"No..."

"Tell me what happened." He said as he took his note pad.

"I really don't know where to start..." Robin said. "It was after the party in the diner, after Marian returned. I went to Regina's... To talk to her, about our relationship. To convince her that it needed to stop. Emma was there, her son in the car. She was drunk you see. She drank about half a bottle of scotch. Even after she promised me she'd gotten rid of all alcohol in sake of my boy." He said, all hot and bothered. "I thought she had, she didn't argue with me, didn't put up a fight, just shrugged and was happy to comply. I suppose she hid a bottle. And when she saw me and Marian together... I guess she drowned it."

"Regina isn't really the kind of person to self medicate with alcohol."

Robin snorted. "No she isn't. She self medicates with murder."

"Robin... That's in her past."

"I know, I know and I was fine with it. Those people she killed or ordered killed... they didn't have faces. I didn't know any of them. But then she turned out to have murdered my wife, my true love. How could I ever forgive her for such a thing?" He sighed. "I told her that she was the cause of Marian's death. The cause of Roland's mother's death. And she giggled. Just giggled. I know now it's because of the alcohol... but back there, I had had a few sips and it was late and she just had the most stupidest look on her face and I lost it. I saw her face down on the couch with a handprint on her cheek. My handprint. And it was only then that I realized what had happened. But I didn't feel sorry for what I did."

"Then what did you feel?"

"Shame for hitting a woman. And then I hit her again. And again. And again. And again. And then she was silent. I carried her upstairs and put her to bed and then I just fell asleep in her guest bedroom."

The cricket couched. "Was she injured? Did she have bruises I mean?"

"Yes. A pretty nasty one. And I scarred her lip."

"What did she say when she woke up this morning? She must've noticed."

"I told her she fell and hit her face."

Both men let out a sigh, not knowing what to do or say next. It was Dhr. Hopper who broke the silence. "You need to tell her, Robin, this is not something you can keep from her. One day, she will find out and believe me, a former Evil Queen is not someone you'd want to be upset with you." To which the archer nodded, knowing the psychologist had spoke the truth. He stood up and Dhr. Hopper did too. "Robin, one last thing."

"Yes?"

"What you did was a criminal act, which I'm forced by law to report." He said. "But since Emma isn't on my speeddial it can take a while before she's informed. Maybe just enough time for you tell Regina." He sighed. "I am sorry Robin. It's just different in this world."

Robin nodded, knowing there was no way out. "Yeah, I guess so. Can you give me the afternoon?" and the former cricket nodded.

* * *

Meanwhile Regina was back home. When the make-up hadn't worked she tried magic. Sadly, healing-magic was never something she mastered, she couldn't even do a half-assed job and so the bruise had only faded slightly, but still very visible and her lip was sadly unchanged. No this was something she should let Rumple do, like he did when Daniel had bruised her neck. But she was not, absolutely not, definitely not, going outdoors looking like she had been beaten up.

However, when Rumple didn't respond to her calls, she cursed him and his bride and found herself walking, seeing as Robin had accidentally wrecked her Mercedes and it was still in the shop, down the street, heading towards the infamous pawnshop. Although it was quite early, Storybrooke was unfortunately the home of many early birds and she caught quite a bit of stares. Luckily, it was no one she knew well enough for them to question her about it. However, they did all know Snow White and before she could even reach the pawnshop she got a call.

"Yes?" She asked with her normal happy, cheery tone of voice.

"Regina? It's Mary Margaret. I heard from Bashful you looked like you'd been hit with a bike lock and I heard from Charles, you know, that fisherman who married that awful Ilsebil, that someone must've given you quite a beating. What's going on? Did anyone assault you? Because that is not okay. You hear me? This is not the Enchanted Forrest, if someone hit you that is illegal, immoral and wrong. Do you hear me?"

Regina sighed, moaned and groaned all at the same time. "Got drunk, fell down, magic isn't of any use, going to Rumple, bye." And she hung up. She wasn't in any mood to deal with the fragile snowflake trying to be tough right now. She let out a sigh and continued walking until she reached the pawnshop, which didn't surprise her by being closed. It didn't stop her either. She started knocking furiously on the door and after a few seconds she felt a familiar rush of magic and when she looked around she noticed Rumple had appeared right behind her.

"Yes dearie? What's so important it couldn't..." He stopped talking as his former student turned around. "Ah I see."

"It was an accident..." She started explaining but stopped when he help up his hand.

"No need for a cause." He said and he stepped foreword and slightly touched her face. "But you really need to learn this magic yourself, you know. It's not that hard, you just need to sit down and read a tome and I'm sure you'll master it in no time." He snorted. "But then again, your mother was never able to. I guess you need a heart to heal."

She felt the magic flow from his fingertips, healing her skin. She took a deep breath and thanked the Dark One before she turned on her heals and walked home.

* * *

It was the late afternoon when Robin found himself in front of the door he'd stood in front of quite a lot, but back then with happier reasons. He knew he had to knock. He had to tell her. She'd find out one way or the other. He raised his hand to knock and it was only then, after half a day, that he noticed there was a bit of blood on his knuckle. Was it hers? Was it his? He let out what could've probably been the thousand sigh he'd let out that day and knocked. No going back.

"Robin?" Regina asked, a bit startled to see him on her porch. "What are you doing here?"

"I hit you." He said without taking a breath.

"What?"

"I hit you."

"You hit me?" She let it sink in. "You caused those bruises? You actually hit me?!"

"Regina, I'm so sorry, you have no idea."

She shook her head. "Leave, Robin." She said as she tried to close her door, only to be stopped by Robin. "I said leave! Go away!"

"No." The archer said. "Regina, listen. I am so incredibly sorry, I've been beating myself up over this..."

"Is that supposed to be funny? Are you seriously joking right now?" Her voice full of anger.

"No no no no no!" He cried out. "I need you to talk to me, please Regina, I can't live like this. I need you to forgive me."

She raised her brows but stopped trying to close the door. "So let me get this straight. I get drunk, my fault of course, and then you decide to hit me. Multiple times actually, until my face is broken. Then you undress me and put me to bed, but you know, wife-beaters seldom just 'beat' their wives, so is there anything else you want to admit to? Then, the next morning you lie to me about my injuries and it takes you a full..." She looked at her watch. "Nine hours before your conscious isn't okay with you anymore and then I need to forgive you."

"I know it sounds awful when you say it out loud..."

"It sounds awful when you only think about it, Robin, you fucked up." She sighed. "But don't worry. I won't be pressing charges, your precious wife and darling son will never hear of it." She said as she leaned in closer. "But remember this, thief. If you ever, ever dare lay a hand upon Marian, or your son for that matter, jail will be nothing compared to what I'll do to you. Is that clear?"

"Yes, of course Regina, obviously I'd never harm them, they mean more to me than life itself..."

"I want you to leave now." And with that she threw the door in his face.

* * *

It was quite a walk from Regina's house to the Merry Men Campsite and he was happy to have finally reached home. His wife came up to him first thing, dragging their son along by his hand. Although she was clearly a kind mother, it was taking quite a while for her to get used to how she could and could not carry or hold a child. She was the daughter of a wealthy nobleman and as such she never had to take care of any little brothers or sisters she might've had. So no, a natural mother she was not.

"Robin!" She called. "Emma Swan came by earlier, wanting to see you. She was asking all these ridicules question, like have you ever hurt me or Roland, are you aggressive. Honestly, it was so odd, it is normal here though?"

"No, Marian, it's not." He took Roland from her and lifted him onto his shoulders. "Hello there, little man. Did you have fun with your mother today?"

To this the boy's eyes started welling up. "I want my mommy!"

"She's right here, son." He said as he reached up, got Roland off of his shoulders and handed him to Marian.

"No! I want mommy! My mommy!"

Marian looked confused. "What's he talking about Robin? He's been doing this ever since this morning." She wiped away a tear as well. "I am his mommy, right?" She lowered Roland onto the ground where he promptly sat down.

Robin sat down next to him. "Roland, what's the matter? Why are you so upset? Your mother is right here."

"No daddy, that's not her. I want mommy."

Was he talking about, no he couldn't be... "Are you talking about Regina?" To which the boy nodded furiously.

"Regina? As in Regina the Evil Queen. The one who was planning to execute me? He calls that witch mother?" Marian whispered as she pulled Robin up by his upper arm.

"Yes, Marian. That one."

"You and her..."

"Yes, Marian. She and I."

"I don't know how I feel about this."

At that exact moment, his phone started ringing. "Excuse me." He said as he took out his phone, something Marian wasn't used to at all. "Yes, this is Robin. Ah, yes, of course. Yes, I'll be there within the hour. Bye." He pressed a button and put the phone back into his pocket. "That was Emma Swan. I need to go to the sheriff's station. I think I'll be back before nightfall. Do you think you can manage him?"

"It'll be fine."

"If you have any trouble, ask Little John. He knows the lad well enough to help you."

"Thanks Robin." Marian smiled and leaned in to kiss him goodbye and instead of her lips, he gave her a kiss on her forehead.

* * *

After another even longer walk, he reached town and quickly went to the sheriff's station, where Emma sat on one of the desks, reading a report. She looked up, half surprised to actually see him and half relieved she didn't have to drive all the way to the woods again. "Robin." She said.

"Emma."

"Wanna sit down?"

"Sure." He grabbed a chair and she did too and then they both sat in silence for a while. "I did it, if you're wondering if the Cricket spoke the truth." He said and sighed. "I actually hit a woman."

She nodded. "That's bad, Robin. I was shocked to hear about it from Archie so I guess I was kinda wondering if you..."

"If I hit a woman before?" He finished. "Back in the Enchanted Forrest it wasn't a crime to hit ones wife, no random women on the street though, but you could hit your wife. Just as she could hit back. It wasn't done very often because a lot of people got married out of true love, but there could be a rotten apple in the bunch. As long as it didn't become a daily or even weekly thing, people were okay with it. It wasn't really frowned upon, it was just a sensitive topic. But no. I've always thought it to be abdominal and praised myself upon the fact I'd never done so."

"And now you have."

"And now I have." He sighed. "And what I did was even worse."

"How do you figure?"

He sighed again. "Regina has had a difficult life. Abusive mother, although she never really shared that much about her, it was clear. And then she was married off at the age of eighteen because back there that was normal. The royals had it all pretty easy, except when it came to love. Snow's been lucky in that aspect but had her father been a 'normal' royal, he would've married her off before his death, three years before her twenty-first birthday. No, the royals had fortune, the villagers had true love." He looked at Emma. "Only the lucky ones had both, and those are the stories you've been told."

"But..."

"Regina, on the other hand, had next to nothing. She was locked into a castle she didn't want to be in, forced into a bed she despised even more and well, it's accepted if the villagers hit their wives. But marital rape is a whole other thing. Only the royals can do that."

"Regina was..."

He smirked. "If she knew I told anyone she'd cut my balls off." He looked at Emma. "Back in the missing year Snow forced her into the royal bedchambers because she couldn't get herself out of bed, already a swollen stomach and everything. Regina helped her but afterwards I found her crying in the..."

"Regina Mills doesn't cry. I'm sorry, but she just doesn't."

He nodded. "I can understand you'd think that, but she actually cried. And I found her. And comforted her. She told me everything, not that it was a surprise, it's why I hate royals. And then she went back to ignoring me."

"Still, Robin, you hit her."

"I know I..." He stopped and both heard a beep. "What was that?"

"I don't know, Robin, just tell me what happened."

"Hasn't the cricket told you?"

"Yes but I need to hear it from you."

Robin nodded. "Everything he told you was the truth and I confess to it. But I need to confess to something else. I love her." He said with a look on his face as though he finally realized. "I love her. I want to kill myself for what I've done, but by Merlin, I love her. She's obnoxious, rude, arrogant and I love her. She's cruel, a murderer, possibly a psychopath yet I love her. I love Marian but not as I do Regina and I'd spend the rest of my life on my hands and knees trying to make it up to her."

* * *

Regina, however, still at home, drinking some thee and reading the tome Rumple suggested her to. It wasn't really all that hard. She was interrupted when her phone started ringing. "Hello?" No sound came. "Hello?" She grumbled, about to hang up when she heard the annoying sound she called Emma Swan's voice.

_"What was that?"_

_"I don't know, Robin, just tell me what happened."_

_"Hasn't the cricket told you?"_

_"Yes but I need to hear it from you."_

A short silence."Everything_ he told you was the truth and I confess to it. But I need to confess to something else. I love her."_ Another silence. "_I love her. I want to kill myself for what I've done, but by Merlin, I love her. She's obnoxious, rude, arrogant and I love her. She's cruel, a murderer, possibly a psychopath yet I love her. I love Marian but not as I do Regina and I'd spend the rest of my life on my hands and knees trying to make it up to her."_

And then the line went silent. He must've pocketdialed her. Never before had she'd been charmed by somebody insulting her like this. She had some thinking to do.

**So there was that, hope you liked it. If you feel like reviewing, please do. I understand I might've been a bit mean to the ones that were rude to me, but if you want to leave another review calling me childish, please do, your hate makes me stronger. I am only kidding of course **


	3. Chapter 3

**And yet another part I didn't plan to add...**

**Warning: Implied violence towards women and an undetailed mention of rape.**

That very night Robin found himself asleep next to his wife. She'd already gone to bed and she'd most likely be upset when she'd wake up tomorrow morning to find him in their bed, but he needed the closure of another person. He didn't want to be alone, he didn't want to be left with his thoughts. And so he looked at the back of her head, her shoulders moving each time she took a breath. The small mumbling noises she'd always make that he used to love but now seemed to annoy him. Regina lied still in bed. Not moving, not mumbling, the sound of her breaths almost inaudible. She'd lay on her back, arms to the side, her face portraying her dreams. Sometimes she wore a small smile, indicating a happy dream, about him, or Roland, or Henry. Or, as she'd confessed, her stable boy. Who'd visit her in her happiest dreams and teach her how to ride a horse improperly. Other times the corners of her mouth pointed downwards, telling him she was having a nightmare. And it didn't matter how much he wanted to wake her up, if he did, he'd have a cranky Regina all day. She was used to the nightmares. Of her late husband haunting her in her dreams, touching her, telling her to be quiet, how she did just fine. Not good, not bad, she was just fine. For now that was. He hated royals. And in doing so he hated himself.

* * *

_"Father?" A young lad yelled. "Where are you?" He was looking for his father all over the house, which was a pretty hard task as they had a pretty large house. He'd visited the kitchens already, as his father enjoyed talking to the kitchenmaids, but he'd not been there. Nor was he in his study, or one of the extravagant livingrooms. So he went outside to the gardens, where his mother sat with his aunt. "Mother? Auntie? Has either of you seen father?"_

_His mother turned to look at him, as did his aunt. "Son." She said. "Your father has gone."_

_"Where has he gone mother? To grandpapa?" The boy asked._

_"No Robin." She smiled through her tears. "The angels have finally listened to my prayers and carried your uncle away from us."_

_On hearing this his aunt, who looked nothing alike his mother nor him, let out a soft sob. "Died in his sleep, he did." She used her handkerchief to wipe away a tear. "Silently and no pain at all." But she lied._

_"Are you happy or sad, Auntie?"_

_"Both, my darling boy, both."_

_His mother patted his aunts hands, the ones she kept on her knees. "Your father has gone to take care of the funeral arrangements. We will leave before the sun reaches her highest point. You better go pack, we'll be at the summer palace for at least a week."_

_"Yes mother."_

* * *

When thinking back, he should have known better. His aunt was only the first he encountered.

* * *

_His father was never the same after the death of his twin brother, a death he blamed his sister in law for. If she hadn't let him drink so much, he'd still be there, he reasoned. If she'd slept next to him as a proper wife should've she could have turned him. He wouldn't have choked on his own vomit. Her fault and hers alone. The will his brother had written up left next to nothing to his poor aunt. Only the clothes she had and a few bits of jewelry. The rest was all bequeathed to his father. The house, the staff, the horses and the land. His mother pleaded with his father, to please allow his aunt to stay at their mansion. They had room enough, wings to spare, and so his father had agreed that yes, she wouldn't be in the way but if she interrupted anything or expected any money from his pocket he wouldn't think twice about throwing her out. A life of thieving and whoring would await her. Because, let no mistake be made, even at his young age, Robin knew his aunt possessed a great beauty. She had a porcelain skin, big violet-blue eyes, and long ringlets of brown, almost black hair, that reached her lower back. She was thin but well proportioned. The exact opposite of his mother, who didn't have her small waist, or her striking eyes. But Robin thought of her as gorgeous too, how could she not be? She was his mother, she was an angel. She had the golden hair of an angel and the kindness, something his aunt had not._

_"Robin, sit up." She would say nearly every breakfast, lunch and dinner. Well, she didn't usually attend dinner, his father didn't like that. She often took it in her room. "Mouth closed when chewing." She'd bark. "Don't talk with your mouth full, it's rude." And of course he realized she was right, but still. After a while the mood changed. His father's for the better, his mother's for the worst. His aunt didn't come around that much anymore. The few dinners she attended, she didn't attend anymore. Lunches she skipped and if she even joined breakfast she always looked like a mess. He saw his father once, leaving his aunt's bedroom, just as he wanted to fetch her._

_"Auntie?" He'd asked her. "Is father upset with you?"_

_"No Robin, of course not, how do you figure?"_

_"Why else would he talk to you?" His young mind didn't register what it had meant, his father leaving his aunt's bedroom, he only remembered his father grumbling about his aunt living with them, while they all sat near the fire about a month ago._

_A few weeks later he was sneaking around, something he liked to do and the staff always complimented him on, he was so silent, so quiet, so unnoticed. He came by the sitingroom that was adjoined to his father's study when he heard yelling. "You realize you'll go to hell, right!" His mother's voice was clear._

_"No."_

_"A man who takes his brother's wife!" She cries. "It's impure! God will take your son away from you."_

_"Don't you dare."_

_"You took her, right under my nose and..." a loud slap was heard and his head popped through the doorcrack. His mother was clutching her cheek and whimpered._

_His father grabbed his mother's upper arm, he held onto it real tight. "Now you listen to me, wife." He spat the word. "You do not tell me what to do ever again, do you understand. She lives under my roof and I can do whatever I want with her. You live under my roof and I can do whatever I want to you." And as a way to demonstrate what he just said he pulled on the strings of her corset until they broke and then he pushed her roughly onto the couch. And Robin ran as fast as his feet could carry him. He ran to the wing opposite of this one until he found his aunt's room and knocked as hard as he could. The door opened as it was not locked. He ran in and looked for his aunt, whom he found on the balcony._

_"Auntie! Auntie! Father and mother, they are fighting and..."_

_"Let them be Robin." She said. "'t be what grown-ups do."_

_"But Auntie!" He tried again but stopped when he noticed her nightgown. "Are you hurt?"_

_"No, Robin, not anymore."_

"_But you are bleeding, Auntie." As means of proof he pointed at the hem of her gown, which was covered in blood. As a matter of fact he stood in a small puddle of blood. "You are hurt, Auntie, I will fetch father._

_She placed her hand on his shoulder and by doing so stopped him from walking away. "No Robin, it's okay." She kneeled next to him, her dress soaking up more blood as it came into contact with the puddle on the floor. "You must understand, Robin, you've already seen ten summers, more a man than a boy now." At which he smiled proudly. "There was a child in my tummy, a baby like you were once."_

_"There was?"_

_"Yes. A little boy. You were going to be a big brother. But he was not meant to be."_

_"Why not?"_

_"Your father did not wish for him to be born. So I asked for him to call the Dark One and have him bring me a potion, one to take him without any pain. But the Dark One always has a price, one your father was unwilling to pay and so he took care of the boy himself." _

_Even though Robin didn't understand he nodded. "Did my brother have a name?"_

_"I wished to call him Roland."_

* * *

It wasn't just because of his aunt that he named his son Roland. That name came up almost everywhere. When Marian was still pregnant with him she wished to call him after the only family member that had ever done right by her, her grandpa. His name was Roland. Back when Robin had just walked away from home, only a child of thirteen summers, he met a boy who'd done the same. An eighteen year old who took the young lad under his wing. Robin had called him 'Fox' until a nasty arrow of the royal guard pierced his stomach and he was dying. He told Robin that his name wasn't Fox, he told him his name was Roland and to let him die as Roland. He'd held onto the hand of his mentor for dear life until after twenty painful minutes the man, who was still very much a boy, fell asleep and never woke up again. When Robin had been a grown up and made his first addition to the Merry Men, a large man named Little John, a second and a third man followed soon enough, only to be joined by a fifth man shortly after. This fifth man called himself Roland but after a few weeks it turned out that this man wasn't a man at all, just a girl who ran away from home. She was his first real girlfriend and he cared deeply for her. He didn't love her but he cared enough to have his heart broken when she fell in love with her best friend and left the Merry Men.

The name was everywhere. And so that's how he called his first born son too.

* * *

_His aunt was sad after that gruesome day, who could blame her? And his father and mother weren't the same anymore either. When he was eleven, his aunt died. She fell from the balcony she loved so very much, but ten and eleven are two whole different age-catagories and he wasn't that little boy anymore. He knew she hadn't fallen. He knew what was going on when he heard his mother cry and his father yelling at her, to shut up. He knew why his mother didn't join them at dinner and breakfast that often anymore. Not because she was sick as his father claimed, she was hiding bruises. Trying to figure out how to cover them with make up, how to stop the bleeding that never seemed to stop. He took her journal when he left home, but threw it out after reading just one page. He didn't want to remember her like that. She died a two months before he left. A heart attack the healer said, but when Robin snuck in to see his mother one last time he saw two handprints on her neck, two blue handprints and he knew what had happened. _

_"It's just you and me, son." His father told him. And Robin wished he'd known what that meant back then, because if he knew, he would've left after saying goodbye to his mother after the funeral. His aunt had died and now his mother had too. At first his father had found some joy in the maids, but he grew tired and annoyed with them shortly. A month after the death of his mother marked the first time his father hit him. It happened over something silly, he'd broken a vase. And so his father his him. At first it had a reason and he always apologized, but after a week it could happen out of the blue. The only reason he put up with it for another two weeks was because he needed money. He started stealing from his father and it required finesse. He was as silent as a mouse as he took money from his father's study, while his father sat in the adjoined livingroom. And he was just as silent when he sneaked into his father's bedroom late at night and stole his mother's jewlerybox. He was disgusted when he saw a girl, not that much older than him, wearing one of his mother's necklaces as she laid naked on the floor, bruises on her uppertighs, but she looked content. And so, just a quietly and quickly he took the necklace from her neck and he snuck out of the room. He grabbed everything he had collected over the weeks and a some extra clothes he stole from one of the kitchenboys and he ran to the stables where he took a horse and galloped away. He never saw his father again._

* * *

Until last night that was, when he looked into the mirror.

**So I wrote this thanks to a guest reviewer who actually gave me some pretty good advise. I'm thinking maybe I should make one of your other suggestions happen as well but not as you planned... mhuahahaha**

**Also, if you have something nasty to say about this story, please do not guest review because I would actually love to go into a discussion with you about how I'm a childish, despicable piece of shit. Seriously, in this story Robin hit her a few times when both of them were half drunk and just had the shock of their lives. Then he spends two whole chapters feeling incredibly guilty, almost ready to kill himself over what he did. Seriously. He hit her a few times! That can happen to everyone! I do not condone domestic abuse but honestly... Have you seen what's on ****fan fiction? And then you're all up my butt because in my story she gets slapped once or twice. ****So in conclusion, don't be coward, tell me exactly how sick and childish I am but do it on your own accounts because I know you have them.**

**Much love from me!**

**R&R**


	4. Chapter 4

**So seeing as there are quite some butthurt people who're threatening to report this very story, I figured I should just add another chapter. Why not? But I should warn you all though, I have made a few changes in the other chapters, perhaps you feel like reading them again. A few tweaks here and there. I do not want to apologize for writing a story that contains domestic violence. However, I do wish to apologize for insulting the SQ ship-fanbase. Although it is not my cup of tea I should never have taken out my frustrations upon you all. Sorry.**

Marian hadn't been angry to find him next to her that morning. It was as if she could read his face, his anguish, his sorrow. She smiled softly, touched his cheek and took a deep breath before slowly moving away from their bed. She took her dress from the chair, the very same dress she'd been wearing ever since she came to this town. They'd told her people do not wear the same clothing day in day out until they were absolutely dirty and smelly. They all had lots of clothing, clothing they switched every day. She didn't like it. So she dressed herself, combed her hair with her fingers and left for a mission she would not return from. If Robin knew what she was doing he'd stop her in an instant but she knew it to be the right thing to do. She walked for an hour, no way she was getting in one of those metal carriages, and then she found herself at her destination. A big white mansion. Exactly like Roland had described it. She gathered all her courage and walked to the front door, where she knocked quickly so she wouldn't have time to rethink it.

"Marian?" The voice of the woman she hated for so long said. "Did something happen?"

"I do not feel right here." She said, looking at her feet. "I feel out of place."

Regina took a long deep breath. "Why did you come to me?"

Marian blinked quickly, a few times and then looked up at her. "Because you are the Evil Quee... I mean, you're the Queen. You know magic. Surely you can do something."

"I can take your life, as I was supposed to." She joked. "But you know Robin, he'd never forgive me."

"Robin loves you."

"I'm well aware of that." She snapped.

"Roland thinks of you as his mother."

Regina nodded and looked down. "I'm sorry, Marian."

"They've moved on. And now, I'm back and although I know they are trying to adapt, it's not fair of me to ask such a thing from Roland. From Robin. Is there a different way? A way that doesn't involve you taking my life?

Regina thought before she nodded another time. "There is. I can give you, Roland and Robin a new set of memories. I would never have existed in their minds, my place would be filled by you and nobody who would care would be the wiser..."

But Marian shook her head before Regina could finish. "No. I cannot take that from them. I love them to death, and I always will, but this is not my place anymore. It's not my place to be his mother anymore, not my place to be Robin's wife. It's yours. Can you think of anything else?"

"I cannot send you back to the enchanted forrest, if that's what you wished for." With that Marian visibly saddened. "I can send you to a place outside of Storybrooke, same rules apply as my second proposal. Except it will be only you who takes the potion. You won't remember them, you won't even remember your own name. A whole new personality, a whole new life. A new chance at love. A new chance of happiness... That or I can change you into a woodland creature."

* * *

"Are you going to lock me up?" He asked the sherif and she looked at him, still deep in thoughts.

She took a deep breath. "You deserve it."

"That I do."

"Charge you with assault."

"I'd accept it, as I am guilty."

"I already looked it up you know. Penalties for assault in Maine range from one day to a max of ten years in prison..." Emma told him, but before she could continue her father walked in, dragging a rather intoxicated former dwarf behind him. "Leroy, seriously..."

After her father placed him on the bed in the cel and closed the door, the dwarf got up again. "What's Robin Hood doing here?"

"None of your business, that's what." Emma barked at him.

The dwarf smirked as he leaned against the bars. "So he did something bad?" The grin got even wider. "Something... Naughty?"

"Leroy, be quiet."

"What'd you do, Robin Hood?"

Emma tried to silence him again, but Robin got up and walked to the jailcel. "I'm here because I assaulted Regina. I hit her."

"That's called assault now? Back when the first curse broke that was called justice." He looked past Robin at Emma. "Swan, if you're going to charge him, you'll have to charge half the town. Your own mother included."

"Mary Margaret never hit Regina."

He chuckled. "Yeah right." And with that he dropped onto the bed and started snoring almost immediately.

Robin turned back to Emma. "Emma, please. Charge me with something, I can't live with this."

"I can't charge you. It wouldn't make sense. I punched Regina in the face. I can't lock you up without locking up a bunch of other people too. But I can do something else. You need to tell Marian, that first, the station is in need of some help. You will clean up this place and outside." She bend behind her desk and returned shortly later. "You'll be wearing this." She said, holding up an extremely orange piece of clothing. "It's like 25 percent meant to keep you safe from cars, 74 percent shaming and one percent fashionable. I made some kids who were doing a graffiti-piece the same thing."

"Graffiti?"

"I'll explain later."

"Okay."

**So I know it's a short chapter, I just felt like updating. Alrighty then, for those of you who haven't noticed, I've uploaded a new story. Now, If there are still haters reading this: shame on you. You're being a bit hypocritical don't you think? I bet secretly you like it! and you like me too! **

**Much love from me!**


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